Hybrid (Nevermore, Book 2)

Dedication

I would like to give a special shout-out to my younger sister Katee for sticking by me as a proud sister and avid fan and for urging me to write, write, write!

Also to my darling daughter Emily Poe, a world without her would be a world without magic.

And as with anything else, my husband Adam—I would never have come this far without you.

We all feed on tragedy; it’s like blood to a vampire.

- Maynard James Keenan

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 01 – Reflections

Chapter 02 – Control

Chapter 03 – Coward

Chapter 04 – Learning to Fly

Chapter 05 – A Normal Life

Chapter 06 – Claire

Chapter 07 – Nightmares

Chapter 08 – Home

Chapter 09 – Temporary

Chapter 10 – Unbelievable

Chapter 11 – Picnic

Chapter 12 – Suspicions

Chapter 13 – Options

Chapter 14 – Clouded

Chapter 15 – Hannah

Chapter 16 – Recollections

Chapter 17 – Needs

Chapter 18 – The Locket

Chapter 19 – Littlehaven

Chapter 20 – Grandpa Waldron

Chapter 21 – Old Friends

Chapter 22 – Changes

Chapter 23 – History

Chapter 24 – Hybrid

Chapter 25 – Practice

Chapter 26 – Scents

Chapter 27 – Eila

Chapter 28 – Trailer 16

Chapter 29 – Betrayal

Chapter 30 – Irony

Chapter 31 – Goodbyes Are Never Easy

From the Author

About the Author

Also By

1. Reflections

As if being a vampire hunter hadn’t been bad enough, there was also the dilemma of being in love with the enemy. Fortunately, he was nothing like the rest of them. He was gentle, more in touch with his human side, and feasted on the blood of animals instead of people. While that was comforting, I couldn't help but worry that something could corrupt him...like it had my foster mother's boyfriend, who turned out to be a vampire. Like Salem, he was unwilling to feed on humans. That is until Janet cut herself one day and he lost control.

Salem had been around me plenty of times when I was bleeding and never showed any interest, but that worry was always there. Then there was the other concern that I tried to ignore every time it slipped into my mind—what if I ever did something to hurt him? I was capable, beyond capable. It wasn't something that I would ever want to do, but I had powers that I couldn't completely control.

The ability to become a raven was something that ran in my genes; however, it was rare. I was only the fourth Waldron known to possess the 'gift', as my father, Paul, called it. However, I wasn't quite to the stage of being able to do it at will. It most often occurred when I was around a vampire, or was in danger, and I phased easily in and out of shape. Paul thought the more I let it happen naturally the better I would be able to control it. Salem and I were both hesitant to attempt that, considering it would involve me being in danger. But, I finally felt ready to give it a shot, especially if hunting was going to become a regular routine in my life. The better I was at it, the less blood-sucking monsters there would be lurking around the world, and the less innocent people like Janet—my foster mom—would die. I could only imagine how many there were out there. Salem and his Sire, Raziel, had come from England before traveling to America. The thought made my mind whirl at the possibilities. If a few vampires could find their way into the quiet little town of Willowshire, then they could be anywhere...everywhere.

That night I was to meet Paul and my aunt Kim in the cemetery—one of the last places I wanted to go. Less than six months ago, I nearly died there at the hands of Raziel. I was extremely lucky to have survived with just a fractured leg and a few scratches, as well as a very conspicuous mark on my throat that left an unsightly scar. Every morning I struggled to cover it with a layer of makeup, or ensure I was wearing a shirt or hoodie that hid the evidence. My leg had healed up nicely, and I was thankfully capable of walking without crutches after only a couple of months. If it hadn't been for Salem...my mind whirled again at the possibilities.

I sighed and rested my head against the cool pillow behind me. I was alone in the massive canopy bed in Salem's bedroom. It was without a doubt the most comfortable piece of furniture imaginable. The mattress was plush, draped in ebony silk, and wide enough that I could spread out in any position I wanted—which, at that moment, was curled up in a ball worrying about the meeting.

Salem was out hunting, probably sucking the life out of a poor little rabbit in the forest beyond the large Victorian that I had begun to call home. It still bothered me, to some extent, that he had to kill innocent animals to survive, but I favored that idea over the unthinkable alternative.

As I laid there my mind began to reflect on the past eight months of my life—a life that had changed drastically. I had discovered my parents were not truly my parents. The man whom I thought was my uncle Paul for the past eighteen years turned out to be my real father. I learned that my birth mother had been slain by a vampire less than a year after I was born—the same vampire that had turned my beloved Salem. After this, Paul gave me up for adoption to Janet and Desmond Hobbs in the hopes of protecting me from the monster. He had only one condition, once I turned ‘the appropriate age’, which turned out to be eighteen by Janet's standards, the truth was to be revealed to me. Desmond and Janet weren't aware that this included the fact I was part of a lineage of vampire hunters, however. And then, I met Salem, a dashing, brilliant young man who turned out to be a vampire and apparently part warlock, which to begin with was something I couldn't quite accept, but I learned to adjust—especially after Paul revealed to me who and what I was.

Janet abandoned me to live with her new boyfriend, Mark, in Denver, who turned out to also be a member of the undead. Salem had insisted that Mark wouldn't hurt Janet, but it turned out he was wrong. I took a trip to Denver with Paul and Kimberly to make sure Janet was safe, but we were too late. I had lost the only mother figure I had ever known, and witnessed my first vampire slaying. That means both of my mothers, my real one and my foster one, were taken from me by the damned creatures. Salem was very lucky that he wasn't like the rest of them, or else he would be on my kill list. I was fortunate. During all of this, I had put off celebrating any holidays I had formerly loved. Halloween was a little out of my age-range now that I was eighteen, so I wasn't bothered with dressing up and going out for free candy regardless how tempting that was. Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went almost as if they were just ordinary days. Without Janet around, it seemed hardly like holidays could even exist anymore. Paul tried to make it feel festive during Christmas by bringing a few presents by Salem's house. He practically begged Salem to summon a fir tree and some decorations. We all hung the ornaments, and Paul draped the lights around the tree. Despite his efforts, however, it still didn't feel quite right, and I didn't believe it would ever again.

I was suddenly pulled away from my memories when Salem peeked in through the bedroom door. He walked gracefully across the mirrored floor towards the bed, making me smile more with each step. He sat gently on the bed, and I tried to ignore the hint of crimson in his otherwise pale blue eyes—evidence that he had indeed found something to snack on. Knowing this made me uncomfortable; he attempted to avoid looking directly into my eyes.

I was hoping you would still be asleep when I returned, he said quietly, flattening the creases in the sheets.

Why? I asked, watching his pale hands slide across the slick black material.

To avoid you seeing me like this, and so I could lie with you. He looked at me once, briefly, to smile.

I don't have to be asleep for you to lay with me, Salem.

No, but you looked so comfortable and at peace. He smiled again and moved closer, cuddling up against me. I recoiled at first at the touch of his cool skin, then scooted back against him. You seem distant Alex, is something wrong?

I was afraid you would notice, I grumbled. He always did. That boy could read me like a book, no matter how hard I tried to hide my thoughts or feelings. Part of me wondered if this was another of his mysterious abilities.

What is it?

I was just thinking about the last few months, I murmured, and about tonight.

I'm not looking forward to it, either, Alex.

I know. Will you be there?

Of course I will. Just in case...

After the close call I had last time, he wasn't very eager to let me go out alone. Paul and Kim didn't count as safe company, considering their past records. I was surprised either of them had lived through any of their hunting experiences with how bad their skills were—surprised, but thankful.

Perhaps some breakfast will help clear your mind a little. It is the most important meal of the day you know. He winked.

Sounds good. I smiled, knowing he wasn’t actually going to cook. Just something small is fine, scrambled eggs and sausage, maybe?

Deal. He grinned, kissed me on the forehead and hurried out of the room.

I stretched across the vast bed one last time before reluctantly climbing off and heading downstairs. Salem had summoned a plate with a small portion of scrambled eggs and two sausage links, which I ate hungrily as he stared at me from across the table.

What? I mumbled as I took a sip of orange juice and puckered. It was far more sour than I had expected.

Nothing, I am just glad that you are here.

Where else would I be?

Nowhere. He frowned. You aren't the only one that has been dwelling on the past.

I put my glass down and sighed. Salem, there's nothing to be worried about anymore. Raziel is gone; he can't hurt me.

But he was close. Too close. I heard a faint growl escape his throat.

No matter how close he was, he wasn't close enough. I slid a forkful of eggs passed my lips.

I couldn't bear to live without you, you know. He looked at me, his expression serious and full of despair.

I know. I reached across the table and touched his hand. I’m fine, really, stop worrying about it.

He’s not the one I’m worried about anymore, Alex. There are more of them out there, more of them just as strong, if not stronger, than him. You cannot realize how many.

And we will kill each and every one of them. I'm not helpless anymore, I said with a confident grin.

Salem simply shook his head. This was a bad idea.

I impatiently waited for him to continue.

You shouldn't be out there hunting. It's not safe. It is one thing to protect yourself if one comes for you, but to seek them out is crazy. Do you not remember how close I was to losing you last time?

Salem, you’re the one who convinced me to listen to Paul in the first place...

I know, and I was wrong! He spoke harsher than I had ever heard before, but then his face went back to the concerned look he had before. I don't want you to die because of me.

I wouldn't be dying because of you. This would be my life, whether you were in it or not. With or without you, Paul would have seen to it that I became a hunter. It’s in my blood.

Clearly, that didn't help. He looked even more upset by that fact. I'm going to go for a walk, he muttered through clenched teeth. Before I could even protest he was headed towards the doors.

I stared after him, watching the large white doors slam shut. Pushing my plate aside, I contemplated following him but decided I should give him some space to think. Without the distraction of Salem, my mind began to race again about all that had changed. With an attempt to drown out the nagging thoughts in my head, I wandered into the living room and pulled out my well-read book of Edgar Allen Poe’s works I had gotten for my last birthday.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Salem returned. He was withdrawn and uncommunicative no matter how much I tried to convince him everything would be fine. I wasn't used to seeing him like this. He was always in a good mood and open to discussion. When he came back into the house, he went straight to the white sectional sofa, and I immediately went and sat by him.

Is there something you’re not telling me Salem? I asked quietly.

I am just worried about you.

That's all this is about? I hated having to pry the information from him.

Mostly, he finally said.

You can tell me anything, you know.

I know...I just do not know if I can say what is on my mind right now.

Is it about me hunting? I asked, trying to figure it out without him having to say it.

No.

Is it about Raziel?

He flinched. I must have been on the right track. No, not exactly.

I swallowed before letting myself ask, knowing it would hurt him to hear it. Hannah?

Yes. His voice was strained.

Hannah was Salem's half-sister. Raziel—formerly known as Thomas Winter before he became a vampire—was her true father. Salem only discovered this six months ago, and it was torturing him. His memory of being human was foggy, but Raziel had shared his own memories with him. He hadn't quite described the vision to me, all I knew was that Raziel had attempted to keep Hannah alive until it became too much, and he killed her.

Salem... I said quietly, gently. What exactly did Raziel show you?

That's really not going to help me feel better, Alex, he replied bitterly.

You don't know that. Talking about things can help...

He was at a house with Hannah. I cannot believe I was there, too, and unaware of her presence. How had I not known?! He shook with anger. She was probably six in the vision he shared with me. That means three years had passed since he took her. Three years during which I could have saved her. He showed me what became of her... His voice trailed off, and he sat up suddenly.

What? I asked, shocked by the bizarre look on his face. He looked almost hopeful. Salem?

I don't think it was her, Alex.

I stared at him incredulously. What do you mean?

The little girl he showed me, she couldn't have been Hannah. He shook his head. Why would he want me to think he killed her?

I don't know what you are saying, Salem. My voice had grown concerned.

It wasn't her! Her hair was wrong, her face...her voice.

She was older than the last time you saw her, Salem...of course she was different. People grow; people change.

No, this was not Hannah.

How can you be so sure? I frowned, partly wishing he would return to his state of despair rather than rambling on about seemingly nonsense and getting his hopes up.

How could he possibly have kept her a secret from me during a course of three years? That would be impossible. I would have smelled her. I would have heard her. This was someone else entirely. It has to have been.

She could have been kept somewhere else, Salem...

Either way, I am almost positive it was not her!

I sighed. Then what do you think happened to your sister?

He would either have set her loose or... he frowned, all sign of hope fading from his face, …turned her into a monster like me.

You're not a monster, I objected. If he did turn her, wouldn’t that be a good thing? It could mean she is still out there somewhere.

But she wouldn't be the same.

You don't know that, Salem. Maybe she would have turned out like you. Raziel showed me her, too, remember? I could sense good in her, pure goodness. I don’t think a person like that can be so easily corrupted.

He smiled slightly at the thought, and then returned to sulking.

Would you rather she have died, if this is all true?

No...maybe…I don't know. He sighed and looked through the window behind us. We should probably get ready to go.

I glanced through the wide windows and noticed the sun had begun to set. That was my cue to leave. I begrudgingly left the comfort of the sectional and followed Salem out to my car. The Alero sat parked inside the garage. The car had seen better days and was now covered in blemishes of rust. The rain and snow over the years had beat freely on it without the safety of a garage until recently. We climbed into the old car and headed off towards the graveyard.

2. Control

I was unsurprised to find Paul's Jeep Wrangler parked by the curb. I pulled up behind it and hesitated for a moment. Salem grimaced and exited the car, abandoning me for a moment while I gathered my crossbow from beneath the passenger-side seat. He wasn't comfortable at all with my use of the weapon, especially around him. He knew I would never hurt him intentionally, but one accident with the poison soaked arrowheads would be all it took. I tucked it under my hoodie and left the car.

Paul was leaning against a street lamp; his arms folded across his chest and a bleak expression on his face. He was still uncomfortable with the relationship I shared with Salem, despite their apparent bonding after the incident with Raziel. Aunt Kim stood beside him—her face was the exact opposite of her brother's. She looked absolutely thrilled to be here, but that was no surprise for me. She worked as a journalist, but during any other hour, she was a thrill-seeker. That was her absolute passion. She told me numerous horrifying stories about parachuting, hang gliding, bungee jumping and swimming with sharks. Nothing, she said, was as thrilling as a vampire hunt, however.

Evening, she said through her full, red lips. Ready for some fun?

I laughed, always amazed at her enthusiasm. If that's what you want to call it.

Paul and I are going to be behind you the whole way, but don't be surprised if we're out of sight, she replied, glancing once at her brother, then back at me. "We don't want them to know there’s more than one of us out here if we can help it. Thankfully, the wind is blowing